I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit

This bonus chapter is a small gift—may it bring you a touch of tranquility.

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Battles in the Holy Grail War usually occurred late at night when most ordinary people were fast asleep, making it unlikely anyone would notice ancient heroes clashing nearby.

When Artoria arrived at the Black Faction's castle, it was morning. Now, it was afternoon.

She had no pressing matters, so she planned to stay for the day and leave in the evening.

Discovering that interacting with others helped restore her humanity, she decided to spend more time engaging with people.

Although regaining her humanity suppressed her divinity, potentially weakening her, she insisted on this course of action. After all, she didn't want to become the Lion King. If her humanity were completely overshadowed by her divinity, she feared she would no longer be herself.

However, the members of the Black Faction… were not exactly ideal companions.

The soulless homunculi didn't count. The family head, Darnic, was too scheming. Vlad III wasn't a good conversationalist. Gordes was insufferably arrogant. Siegfried was a man of few words. Astolfo's Master, Celenike, was a pervert who spent her days tying Astolfo up in the basement for unspeakable purposes. Frankenstein couldn't speak. Caules was overly cautious. And Avicebron and his Master were perpetually occupied with constructing golems.

In the end, only Chiron and Fiore were suitable conversation partners.

Fortunately, Fiore enjoyed talking with Artoria, and the other Black Faction members seemed to encourage it, perhaps thinking it would improve their standing with her.

After leaving Fiore's room, Artoria unexpectedly ran into someone unusual.

The figure wore bizarre blue-and-black-striped robes and an oversized cloak. His face was hidden by a mask, and his entire body was covered, making him look more like a robot than a person.

It was the Black Faction's Caster—Avicebron.

When Artoria noticed Avicebron, he noticed her as well.

"Avicebron? So, you're the Black Faction's Caster?" Artoria said in mock surprise.

Her reaction was, of course, feigned.

As expected, Avicebron appeared confused. Though his mask concealed his expression, his uncertainty was palpable.

"Ruler… you know me?" he asked.

Darnic had already informed him that the Ruler currently residing in the castle was the divine version of King Arthur.

When Avicebron first heard this, he wasn't particularly interested.

King Arthur? Can she help me create the Original Man, Adam?

No? Then why should I care?

Running into Artoria was unexpected, but he didn't mind. It wasn't as though he had been avoiding her. Their lack of interaction thus far was simply because he didn't see the point.

To Avicebron, his golems were far more important than the Grail War's outcome. In truth, he didn't care about winning or losing—his sole focus was on his craft.

Among the fourteen Masters and Servants in this war, Avicebron was perhaps the only true mage: someone willing to sacrifice everything—life, wealth, trust, even bonds—for his research.

Terrifying. And tragic.

"You could say I know you," Artoria replied cryptically. "But I doubt you know me."

Avicebron was sharp. Artoria's vague words quickly led him to a plausible conclusion.

"Another me… summoned in a different Holy Grail War?"

"Something like that. It's a bit complicated, but that's an easy way to understand it," Artoria said with an impassive expression, giving no clues as to whether she was lying.

But she wasn't lying. She really had encountered Avicebron before—though not in any Holy Grail War, but in Chaldea and the Russian Lostbelt.

"So, what do you want? I need to get back to my golem crafting," Avicebron said.

His singular focus reminded Artoria of a humorous anecdote: a man watching Ultraman Tiga on TV shooed his girlfriend away—even though she was wearing a seductive outfit—saying, "Move! You're blocking Tiga!"

She couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at the parallel. Avicebron's obsession with his work was similarly unwavering.

"It's nothing urgent. I just wanted to thank… you," Artoria said softly.

Avicebron froze at her unexpected gratitude.

"We once faced an incredibly difficult opponent," Artoria explained. "As long as he stood on his own land, his power and Spirit Origin grew to terrifying levels—far greater than the buffs your Lancer gets in Romania."

"Not only that, but unless one had attributes of a king or leader, it was impossible to resist him within his domain. Even Servants like us were affected."

Artoria was, of course, referring to Ivan the Terrible, the King of the Russian Lostbelt.

In the world of magecraft, it was widely accepted that "time is the greatest mystery"—the older something was, the more mystical it became. Ivan had merged with a living mammoth, elevating his Spirit Origin to a divine level.

Additionally, during his reign, Ivan had ruthlessly crushed the nobility, consolidating absolute power. This resulted in his Lostbelt enhancing his strength to unimaginable levels while imposing a debilitating suppression effect on his enemies.

"And besides him, there were multiple powerful Servants on the enemy's side. At the time, we couldn't even see a path to victory," Artoria said, her tone somber.

Her words drew Avicebron in. If Artoria had sought him out specifically to thank him, it meant that the version of him who fought alongside her must have done something extraordinary.

From her description, the enemy was nearly invincible within their domain. The simplest solution would have been to remove them from that territory.

Realizing this, Avicebron couldn't contain his excitement. His voice even trembled.

"Could it be…"

He was thinking of his Noble Phantasm—the one born from his dream. The Eden free from suffering. The Original Man who would create paradise.

Artoria nodded, confirming his suspicions.

"That's right. The one who opened the path to victory for us… was you and your Noble Phantasm."

"Golem Keter Malkuth."

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T/N: is that the right np :3c

Ah, Reader. You've stayed for the bonus chapter—how delightful.

Even amidst the quiet of eternity, there's joy to be found in shared moments like this.

If you wish to offer your strength, step forward: [patreon.com/WiseTL].

Each effort helps to shape a world where such moments can thrive.

— Ei